


An Angel for the Tree

by Caede



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Very Destiel Christmas, Christmas, M/M, Set after 9x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:10:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caede/pseuds/Caede
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Given from the prompt of an anon on Tumblr: 'A simple Dean/Cas christmas fic?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel for the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> So.. I have no idea what to title this. So that's why this one sucks. Sorry. Anywho, I hope this is good enough for you. <3

Dean didn’t quite know how he felt that morning. Shitty as he had been the past weeks, he supposed.  _Ironic_ , he thought, how co-dependant (and yes, he would admit that to himself) Dean Winchester would end up completely alone all by his doing. Sam, his brother, his main anchor over the years, gone because of him. Kevin, his adopted family - his adopted brother, dead because of him. Cas, missing in action because of him. Bobby and Ellen and Jo and Ash? All dead, because of him. Dad? Because of him. He lays back in bed and lets out a frustrated, pained noise.

He’s not sure how long he lays there in his own misery before he bothers to get out of bed. Christmas day, and he’s alone - unless you consider his good friend Jack, but he doesn’t talk. Just sits there and allows you to drown your sorrows. So that’s what he does, taking a seat in the foyer. Or rather, he starts to anyway - he’s four or five shots in when the bunker door is banged on. He freezes, the bottle half way to his lips, confusion etched on his features. Followed by hope - what if it’s Sam? Did he kick Gadreel out somehow? Oh yes, yes, yes. Or - maybe it’s Cas? His heart flutters at that, but then the pain sets in and his features crumble.

That’s enough thinking for now, of course. He takes a deep breath, and then lets the glass bottle rest on the table and rubs his eyes. Fuck it, if he dies from whatever’s banging (though he doubts it’s anything bad - after all, not many know the exact location of the bunker) so what? He has nothing to live for. Not with everyone he loves dead, or missing, or just completely hating his guts.

Slowly, he makes his way up the stairs, closing his eyes tightly and then stopping in front of the door. Deep breaths in. Okay, one, two. If you die, you die. Nothing to live for, Dean. He wrenches open the door, and his heart stops.

> "Hello, Dean." God, that voice. How Dean has missed it. The way it’s soft like velvet yet rough like sandpaper on bare skin; carressing and grating at his senses until he doesn’t know how to breahte. His heart just about beats out of his chest. "Cas. What are you." His voice breaks. "I thought you.." No oxygen. Dean doesn’t have enough oxygen. "I thought you wouldn’t be here.."
> 
> Cas does that thing he always does, where his brow scrunches up in innocent confusion, and his head tilts. “Why wouldn’t I be here, Dean? It’s Christmas. Isn’t that when you have friends and family around, and you..”
> 
> "Goddammit, Cas." Dean whispers, and he walks forward and throws his arms around the man. Fuck if this isn’t truly Cas, but he’s almost certain it is, because what goddamned demon would be so purely  _Cas_  that it would mimick everything about it? He breathes in everything that is Cas - the dirt, the musk, the strange scent of… well, if sun had a scent, he’s pretty sure that’s what Cas smelled like. It smelled like home, like something, someone, safe.
> 
> "I.. shit, you don’t know, do you? I mean, I’ve been praying to you - I never stopped - shit did I just say that? I’m drunker than I thought." Dean begins to ramble, and Cas’s eyes narrow.
> 
> "You’re drunk, Dean." Cas’s tone is devoid of much else than worry; no disappointment, like he would hear in Sam’s voice. 
> 
> Dean barks a laugh, “Shit, ya think, Cas? Of course I’m drunk. I have nothing better to do. Kevin’s dead, Sam’s missing with Gadreel or whatever, probably dead. You’ve been gone. All because of me.”
> 
> Cas frowns. “Dean, none of that was your fault -“
> 
> "Yeah it was, Cas!" Dean shouts suddenly, stepping back as Cas passes through the threshold of the door, closing it behind him and pushing Dean forward too. "Cas, it’s all my fault! It started as soon as dad died, goddammit! Sammy was lost, I was lost, we just started doing anything - making fucking  _deals with demons_ to keep eachother alive! And then I went and fucked up, and then Jo and Ellen were suddenly dead. Then there was Bobby, dead. Ash. Kevin. Sam. How many more people am I going to kill, Cas?!”
> 
> He’s working up now, and then he slowly turns his malachite hued eyes to meet Cas’s own unruly cerulean. “How many times am I going to kill  _you?”_ And then he passes out, but just before he collapses, he can feel Cas’s arms wrap around him - not warm, but not cold either - and then it’s soft blackness.

Dean comes to in his bedroom, wrapped in his sheets, and he freezes. Had he dreamt all of that? Cas coming back, him getting drunk, screaming at Cas…? He lets out a pathetic whimper and then there’s movement, Cas suddenly coming over. 

"Dean." Cas says, sitting down next to Dean’s legs and gently touching the hunter’s head. Dean’s head is no longer fuzzy and blurry and every thought is crystal clear. 

"Thanks, Cas." Dean mutters, crawling out of his bed awkwardly and biting his lip.  _Cas was - is - right there. So close. So fucking close, in his bedroom. Dean’s goddamn bedroom, on his goddamn bed.._  

And then Cas is looking over Dean’s face. “Dean, what did you mean by ‘how many more times am I going to kill you’?” He asks. “I mean, you were never the direct cause of my deaths. Well, Lucifer - I did that for you, yes, but that’s because I-” Cas cuts off, his eyes darkening, his lips parting as he forms words that never come. 

Dean freezes, and then without thinking, he’s reaching forward and grabbing Cas, pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around Cas. Then he’s kissing along Cas’s neck, up his jaw, towards his lips.

Cas pauses. “Dean, what are you..”

"Don’t ask stupid questions, Cas." Dean whispers against the angel’s lips, and then his lips are against Cas’s.

Cas is frozen solid, and Dean’s worried he read Cas’s body language wrong, and starts to pull away. That’s all it takes, because Cas suddenly surges to life and he’s kissing Dean back, firmly, moving their mouths together and smiling slightly against Dean’s lips. Dean smiles slightly into the kiss back, then he’s pulling away and staring at Cas.

"Merry Christmas, Dean." Cas whispers against his ear, "I’m sorry that it’s not the best."

Dean laughs, a mix between happiness and sadness, “I have you. That’s enough for me.”

Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be so bad after all.


End file.
